


rock your body (please stay)

by returnsandreturns



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Belly Kink, Body Worship, Drunken Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-27 10:25:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7614502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/returnsandreturns/pseuds/returnsandreturns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief study of Matt's fascination with Foggy's belly, in two parts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't even mean to write this, I just--have no control over my life? Doing the blind version of the "getting distracted by the strip of skin over your love interest's waistband when they stretch" trope was a suggestion from a Tumblr anon who clearly has my number.
> 
> There will be one more chapter. Also, I'm proud of that title.

He just means to pat Foggy on the back as he passes him. A completely normal gesture, a  _friendly_ gesture, but then Foggy turns and stretches at the same time.

Matt can hear the shift of his shirt and his hair and the slightest click in his bones, catches the beginning of Foggy’s groan, but it’s too late. His hand is already moving, already connecting with the exposed strip of Foggy’s stomach above his waistband, warm soft skin, giving under his fingers.

And then it just kind of–

Stays there. 

There’s a long moment where neither of them knows what’s happening, where Foggy is frozen mid-stretch, arms in the air, and Matt’s just–touching him. Like a friend? Do friends have immediate dazed opinions about how nice their friends’ bodies feel underneath their hands? Is that a thing that friends do? 

Matt’s never had a friend before. 

“Uh, hey there, buddy,” Foggy says, and Matt immediately drops his hand. 

“I was trying to pat your back,” he says, guiltily, clenching and unclenching his fingers at his side. It’s not even a lie, but he feels like he’s omitting the part where touching Foggy’s bare skin made his heart race.

He’s  _definitely_  omitting the part where he could hear Foggy’s heart race in turn.

“My stomach was a good second choice,” Foggy says, and there’s laughter underneath his voice, in the slight shake in the hand that pats Matt’s stomach lightly–lingers just a little as Foggy walks by him. 

Matt’s breath catches. 

_Is that a thing that friends do?_

*

Foggy’s got a laugh that Matt can feel in his toes even when they’re not in the same room, and he gives out hugs indiscriminately, fills up all these empty parts of Matt’s life and space like it’s just _normal_.

All in all, it takes Matt about three months to fully come to terms with the fact that the way he feels when Foggy’s body is pressed up against his isn’t friendly _at all._

Nothing comes of it until the week before their first college finals, when Foggy drags him out to a party that’s just too many people crammed into a single dorm room and a bunch of cheap whiskey. Matt gets drunk too fast, and they leave early as soon as Foggy notices.

“Sorry,” Matt says, when they’re standing together in the middle of their room. It feels like something’s going to happen, but it might just be because Matt really _wants_ something to happen.

“Nothing to be sorry for, dude,” Foggy says. “I’m about one and a half drinks from being on your level.”

Foggy pulls Matt into a hug, alcohol strong on his breath making Matt feel even dizzier, and Matt hugs back tight so Foggy’s stomach presses up against his. Warmth pools low in Matt’s stomach, and he pushes forward, biting back a moan.

“Matt,” Foggy says, a little hoarsely. His fingers find Matt’s hair, running through it hesitantly.

“Sorry,” Matt murmurs, again, but he slides his hands to palm Foggy’s sides through his sweater, tightening his fingers and feeling like he might drown in the noise of Foggy’s body responding to the touch.

Foggy shifts enough to press their foreheads together, their noses brushing.

“Matty,” he says, breath warm on Matt’s lips, so close.

“Yeah,” Matt says, nonsensically. He turns his head enough to rub his nose against Foggy’s cheek before he closes the distance between them, catching his mouth in a soft, cautious kiss. He presses each fingertip into Foggy’s sides and strokes up and down, pleased when Foggy moans and kisses him back.

Matt whines when Foggy breaks the kiss and, honestly, doesn’t have the sobriety or time to be embarrassed by it.

“Holy shit,” Foggy whispers, then turns his head when Matt tries to kiss him again, so Matt’s lips barely brush against his jaw. “God, buddy, how drunk are you? Scale of one to ten.”

Matt stops to think for a second, resting his cheek against Foggy’s.

“Seven,” he says. Foggy leans back to look at him, and he quickly amends, “Okay, eight.”  

“Right, just—I want to do this, trust me, but we shouldn’t— _god,_ okay, one more time,” Foggy draws off to grab Matt’s face and kiss him again, before he lets go of him and backs away, so Matt’s arms fall to his side. “Fuck, we’re both too drunk. We should stop.”

“You once said there was no such thing as too drunk,” Matt says, smiling when Foggy laughs.

“Yeah, well, I was probably way too drunk when I said that,” he says. “Go to bed, Matt.”

“You gonna make me sleep alone?” Matt asks, swaying forward just slightly, just enough that Foggy moves in to wrap fingers around his arm to steady him. Matt should be more scared than he is—should be _terrified_ of what will happen when they wake up tomorrow, probably. After all, this could be what makes Foggy leave. He’s not, though. Maybe it’s the booze or maybe he’s just tired of _wanting_.

“I don’t know,” Foggy says, smoothing his hand down Matt’s arm to lace their fingers together. “Can you keep your hands above my waist, Casanova?”

Matt laughs and squeezes his hand, saying, “I can try,” softly.

Foggy’s quiet for a moment before he says, “Okay, this is the last time for real,” and kisses Matt roughly, lets Matt back him up until he falls back on his bed and Matt can climb on top of him to straddle his hips. They make out until Foggy eventually groans and pushes at Matt’s shoulder, saying, “Seriously, we’ve gotta stop.”

Matt sits up, steadies himself with his hands on the bed before he decides to live life to the fullest and place them both on Foggy’s stomach instead.

“We’ll talk in the morning?” Matt asks.

“About your weird fixation with my stomach? Absolutely,” Foggy says, almost hesitantly.

Matt barely digs his fingers in and smiles.

“Not weird,” he says, happily.

“Get off me and go to sleep and I’ll let you take my shirt off tomorrow,” Foggy says, and Matt bends down to kiss him once, quick and soft, before he climbs off of Foggy. They pull up the sheets and lay side by side for awhile until Foggy turns to whisper in Matt’s ear, “Hey, do you want to be the big spoon so you can continue groping me?"

“Yeah, yes,” Matt says, a little too eagerly, and Foggy laughs and turns on his side so Matt can press up against his back and slide a hand under his shirt. He falls asleep to the feeling of Foggy’s steady breathing, soft hair and soft skin underneath his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> REALLY SELF-AWARE BUT HAPPY FIRST TIME SEX

Matt wakes up alone, and it takes him about five solid minutes before he realizes that he shouldn’t be–that he’s in Foggy’s bed and has maybe actually ruined everything. He pushed too fast. He flew too close to the sun in a not completely ridiculous metaphor because Foggy is–the _sun_. He’s going to drop out of Columbia and become a _priest_.

He’s also spectacularly hungover.

He somehow manages to leverage his dehydrated, dying, still completely clothed from last night body out of Foggy’s bed and into his own, and he is sprawled out on his back with his head tipped towards the ceiling and absolutely praying about it when he hears Foggy’s heartbeat from the other side of the door.

The room fills up with the smell of coffee and bacon when Foggy steps inside, and Foggy’s voice, just a little too loud, fills up the rest when he says, “You’re gonna love me, I brought–whoa, hey, something’s different here.”

Matt sits up slowly.

“I thought you left,” he says.

“Left?” Foggy asks. “Like…forever?”

“…I don’t know, maybe,” Matt says. “My head hurts.”

“ _Murdock_ ,” Foggy says, laughing. He sits the bundle of food in his arms on Matt’s desk and rests a questioning hand on Matt’s knee. When Matt smiles weakly, Foggy climbs up on top of him, settling his weight on Matt’s thighs. “Y’know, for someone as smart as you are, you’re pretty dumb.”

“Yeah,” Matt says, squirming a little underneath Foggy just to feel where he’s being pinned down. Foggy’s breath catches. Oh.

“I’m here if you are, Matt,” Foggy says, softly, spreading his fingers out on Matt’s shoulders but not pushing down.

Matt reaches up to carefully brush his fingers against Foggy’s hair.

“I’m here,” he says.

“Not still drunk?” Foggy asks, smile in his voice.

Matt’s actually in that really liminal space between drunk and hungover where he could probably sleep for at least six more hours if he let himself, but sometimes it’s okay to lie when it’s for the greater good. He’s pretty sure about that.

“I’m so sober,” Matt says, smiling back. “I have actually never been more sober.”

“Let me get this straight, Murdock,” Foggy says, “You’re saying _this_ is the most sober you’ve _ever_ been?”

Matt’s heard that voice before, heard Foggy both fail and succeed to get girls with that voice, and now it’s for him.

“Yeah,” Matt says. He’s got a voice, too. “I’ll prove it to you.”

He leans up to kiss Foggy at the same time as Foggy leans down to kiss him, which means that their noses collide and their foreheads bump together and Foggy collapses on top of Matt and starts laughing. They’re pressed chest to chest, and Matt winds his arms around Foggy’s middle.

“Want to try that again?” he murmurs in Foggy’s ear.

“I do,” Foggy says, shifting to sit up a little and huffing out a laugh when Matt pulls him back down, “I really do, but—also, I feel like I’m crushing you.”

“I like it,” Matt says, breathing in deep to feel all the places they’re touching.

Foggy laughs and says, “ _Weirdo_ ,” before he pushes forward to kiss Matt.

Matt sighs into it, tipping his head back to give Foggy better access. They make out slowly, rocking against each other until they’re both panting and desperate.

“What do you want, Matty?” Foggy asks, dipping down to kiss Matt’s neck.

Matt’s been with a couple of girls this semester, but—this feels like new territory, the way their hips shove together, Foggy hard against him. He’s not sure what he wants, but—he _wants_.

“Can I touch you?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Foggy breathes. “You want to switch?”

Matt nods, and Foggy moves to lay on his back so Matt can straddle him instead. He grins down at him, curling his fingers in the hem of Foggy’s shirt before he says, “It’s fuzzy, but I think you promised that I could do this.”

“Go for it,” Foggy says, sitting up to let Matt pull his shirt off and then laughing when Matt immediately runs his hands over Foggy’s stomach. “You’re doing wonders for some deep-set self-esteem issues here, buddy.”

Matt moves down his body to press a kiss to Foggy’s chest, nosing down to his stomach.

“You feel amazing,” he whispers, running his lips down to press a kiss to Foggy’s belly button. Foggy lets out a shaky breath and slides fingers into Matt’s hair, untangling it with his fingers while Matt presses aimless kisses to his stomach.

“This is really a thing for you, isn’t it?” Foggy asks, sounding overwhelmed.

Matt lifts his head up to grin at him.

“I guess so,” he says, before biting down gently on Foggy’s stomach, right above his waistband, pleased when Foggy moans.

College is great. He’s learning a lot.

“Matty,” Foggy says, and Matt nuzzles against Foggy’s stomach one more time before he raises his head again at the gentle pull of Foggy’s fingers in his hair. “No pressure, I’m just asking to prepare myself, but are planning on…you know…moving a little lower?”

Matt moves his hands down Foggy’s sides as he sits up again, tucking his fingers under Foggy’s waistband speculatively.

“I’ve never been with a guy,” he says.

“You don’t have to do anything,” Foggy says. “Seriously, feel free to just kiss me a bunch.”

Matt crawls back up his body to follow through on that, sliding a hand between them to unbutton Foggy’s jeans. Foggy makes a questioning noise into Matt’s mouth, and Matt murmurs, “I want to try, okay?”

“Okay,” Foggy agrees.

Matt kisses down Foggy’s stomach as he moves to unzip his jeans and tug them down. When he wraps fingers around Foggy’s erection, he temporarily forgets how to breathe at the way Foggy’s body reacts, the sound of his heart, the smell.

“Is this okay?” Matt asks.

“This is the most okay thing that has ever happened to me,” Foggy says, very emphatically, and Matt laughs.

“I’m just gonna—” he starts, before leaning down to lick over the head. Foggy swears softly, and Matt clenches his fingers on Foggy’s hips then takes him as deep as he can, choking a few times before he starts to figure it out.

“God, _Matt_ ,” Foggy says, cupping the back of Matt’s head. “You’re so amazing.”

“Yeah?” Matt asks, pulling off of him,

“ _Yes_ , I can’t believe that you–that we’re– _Matt_ ,” Foggy says, and Matt smiles.

“Believe it,” he murmurs, before he takes Foggy in his mouth again, trying to keep a rhythm and watching his teeth after Foggy gently suggests it.

He’s so concentrated on trying to remember what he liked the last time a girl went down on him and reversing it that he doesn’t even notice that Foggy’s about to come until he’s tugging gently at Matt’s hair and saying, “Matt, Matty, where should I—”

Matt doesn’t give it much thought, just goes down as far as he can so Foggy bucks up and comes in his mouth, saying Matt’s name in a low moan that makes Matt shiver.

After he pulls off and swallows, he sits up to make a face at Foggy.

“No offense,” he says, “but you should just come on my face or something next time.”

“…what part of that sentence do I address first?” Foggy says. “The part where there’s going to be a next time or the part where I would be truly honored to come on your face?”

Matt laughs and moves up to drape himself over Foggy and kiss him again, making a startled noise when Foggy’s hand slips down to cup his erection through his jeans, rubbing him gently.

“Want to switch?” Matt asks, a little embarrassed at how his voice breaks, and Foggy takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around Matt and flip them over so he’s on top of him and Matt lets out a surprised laugh, spreading his legs so Foggy can kneel between them.

“Shirt off,” Foggy says, tugging at the hem of Matt’s t-shirt. “This might be the first time I’ll see you shirtless without feeling both wildly insecure and inappropriately turned on.”

“Just appropriately turned on?” Matt asks, sitting up to pull his shirt off and throw it to the side, immediately collapsing underneath him again.

“Maybe a tiny bit insecure,” Foggy says. “I mean, look at you.”

“Can’t really do that,” Matt says. “You shouldn’t be insecure, you’re so–”

Foggy interrupts him with a kiss, surging up to press his mouth to Matt’s a little roughly.

“Save it for when I have your dick in my mouth, dude,” he says, softly, against Matt’s mouth.

“Sure,” Matt says, faintly. “Yeah, okay. That’s happening?”

Foggy kisses Matt one more time before he’s moving down to say, “That’s absolutely happening,” to the skin above Matt’s waistband before he’s pressing his mouth to it–then his tongue, making Matt gasp.

“Have you–” Matt asks, “done this?”  

“Once,” Foggy says, confidently opening Matt’s jeans and pushing them and his boxers down his hips. “High school. But I’m eager and excited to try it again.”

Matt’s still hungover, a little spaced out with the current proceedings, so he kind of feels like he momentarily leaves his body when Foggy leans down to lick a stripe over Matt’s erection before he even touches him. He apparently makes a noise to match that feeling, because Foggy chokes on a laugh, says, “Thin walls.” 

“Don’t care,” Matt says, reaching down to touch Foggy’s hair. 

“Fair enough,” Foggy says, pinning Matt’s hips down and taking him in his mouth, hollowing his cheeks around him. 

“Shit, Foggy,” Matt breathes, clenching his fingers in Foggy’s hair. “I’m just–-I’m just gonna talk, because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. About touching you. Just–- _all the time_.”

Foggy makes a noise around him but doesn’t pull off, moving his head up and down slowly. 

“And I’m serious,” Matt continues, rambling because Foggy can’t tell him to stop, can’t make a joke about it, “You should never feel bad about yourself, your body’s–-perfect. You’re _perfect_. Also, you’re really good at that.” 

Foggy laughs around him, pulling off to press a kiss to Matt’s hip.

“Thanks,” he says. 

“Any time,” Matt says. “Are you going to judge me if I finish really quickly? Because. . .” 

Matt draws off, waving a hand in the air, and Foggy presses his smile to his hip one more time before he says, “I’ll take it as a compliment,” and goes down on him again–taking Matt deep and staying down when Matt warns him before he comes. He licks over the head of Matt’s dick before he pulls off and Matt jumps a little, swearing softly. 

Foggy moves to collapse on top of Matt again, pressing his face into Matt’s neck. They lay silently breathing for a moment while Matt tries to search for words.  

“You’re having feelings, right?” Foggy asks, abruptly. “Like. . .specific blowjob feelings but also. . . _other feelings_?” 

Matt smiles against Foggy’s hair. 

“Lots of feelings,” he promises.

“I thought so,” Foggy says, sighing. “I mean, you called me perfect. That seemed awfully romantic for a friendship blowjob.” 

“Lots of romantic feelings,” Matt says. “Did you bring me bacon?” 

“I did,” Foggy says, “I did bring you bacon. Romantic bacon.” 

Matt laughs and tightens his arms around Foggy.

“My favorite kind.” 

**Author's Note:**

> [you, too, can inspire me to procrastinate from the seven million Matt/Foggy fics I'm already writing with new ideas](http://returnsandreturns.tumblr.com) <3


End file.
